Chapter 5 - administrator

She was practically draped over the chair. With one leg crossed over the other and her posture completely relaxed. She was sexy and it was pretty clear she knew it. Her hair was long dark and silky flowing straight down like a waterfall of shadows. Her eyes a pine shade of dark brown. Her figure was thick set, but undeniably hot. Her thighs were meaty and thick, wide enough to brush up against each other and erase her thigh gap. Her breasts were full and presented far from her frame. Even though her cheeks held a certain softness the height of her cheekbones meant she still had a slightly regal air about her. Though she would’ve stood out even in a plastic bag, her outfit was on point as well. It emphasized everything about her luxuriantly shadowy features. Black skinny jeans hugged every ounce of those plush legs. If she had a gut it was compressed by a tight black corset, which was enhanced by the light leather jacket she was wearing on top of it. She pushed up her thick framed glasses as I approached and uttered a soft sigh.

“So, you’re uh...” I started to say but was interrupted by the sheer explosive flavor of the chocolate cake. It was overly sticky and downright delicious. “The girl from forums yeah you can call me “Sandy”” she told me in a relaxed tone of voice. “Haha, how you’d know it was me” I muttered through a mouthful of chocolate cake. I was incredibly embarrassed to be eating like a hog through such an important conversation. “It’s a cute shirt but you didn't exactly seem like the sort of girl to wear it by choice” she told me with a gesture. I practically choked on my next inhale of chocolate. At the very least she knew enough to tell I wasn’t the glutton the shirt advertised me to be. Yet it was still off putting to be reminded that I was wearing it. “You’re totally right, I’m not suited for this at all, so I was wondering how I could quit?” I asked her. I had expected to sound more desperate. But as the words left my lips, they had none of the air of finality I had expected them to.

She chuckled. The sound haughty enough to raise my hackles a bit. “In short you can’t, you’re live for as long as your contract is in use, and contracts are for someone's entire lifespan” she informed me with a half-smile that came across as pitying. “That can’t be legal?” I interjected curious and somewhat annoyed. “It’s approximately as legal as creating clothing out of thin air and mind control, which is to say It’s impossible, and therefor rather hard for the authorities to regulate” she explained with a dismissive shrug. I took a few seconds to just calm my head a bit. My efforts were somewhat interrupted by the fact I couldn’t keep from shoveling decadent chocolate pastry into my face. At least the delicious taste was a soothing distraction. I finished off one of my slices, and went to speak. But found myself interrupted by the feeling of a handkerchief being pressed against my cheek. “Sandy” scrubbed my face for half a second as I paused out of bewilderment. “Sorry...force of habit” she told me with a coy shrug. I felt my face heat up out of a mix of embarrassment and other more pleasant feelings I tried to ignore. Just who the hell was this chick.

“I had no way of knowing what I was doing when I signed up” I informed her as I tried to calm my inherently bratty nature down a bit. “But you did it anyways, I get that sucks, but there’s really nothing to be done about it” the administrator informed me with a tone that seemed almost sympathetic. It was the “almost” that made her all the more infuriating. My phone buzzed with a text. I took a second to cool my head and read it but when I did, I saw the chat again. “Holy cow that’s Black-Corset" “Oh my god look at her thighs” “Just got here, is this noobie doing a collaboration with Corset?” “I’m here from Corset’s stream who’s the red head?” “I bet she’s going to feed her” “Oh, well if it isn't the sexy bitch” the chat was a mess of comments about Corset. Barring that last comment from Black Neko which seemed to be in my camp, everyone else was practically worshiping her. In all honesty I could see why. She was sexy, charismatic and the sort of girl who looked like she’d be cool and collected in any situation. To say she got on my nerves was an understatement.

“So what, I’m just a slave to the masses, till I end up the size of a whale” I asked Corset curiously. She offered a chuckle but it was kind rather than haughty. “I’ve been at this for two years now” she told me doing a gesture towards her impressive silhouette. I blinked and wondered what the heck she was talking about. “Yeah I get it your hot” I told her resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Then with a pause I got it. “Two years...and you’re still not...” I said making a gesture to an imaginary and much bigger silhouette. “Still not the size of a literal cow...yeah” she said rubbing the bridge of her nose obviously frustrated with how slow on the uptake I had been. “Like any entertainer, you’re a slave to what your audience wants, but the one doing the entertaining is still you” she explained pointing across at me. Her tone carried the weight and confidence of her years of experience. Like most things about her it pissed me off. But it also filled me with a funny sort of hope. “So-” I started to say but she held up her hand to cut me off. “Let’s get some food and coffee first...it seems we’ll be here awhile” she said flagging down the waitress from earlier.

I stared at the ice cream cake from earlier as it was situated on the plate in front of me. It seemed there was no escaping it. I hadn’t ordered it, after all I was still plenty engorged from my earlier order. I could feel my middle pressing against the button of my jeans. “Sandy” had ordered it for me. Along with a black coffee for herself. “So, you’re going to eat and I’m going to explain, if I let you interject every time you have a question, we’ll be here all day” she said taking a long sip of her coffee. I glanced from the cake then back to her. I hated to admit it but she had me in a bind. “Fine but you don’t have to be such a bitch about it” I eventually capitulated cutting off a slice of the cake. The cream oozed around the knife blade as I hewed off my piece and I had to resist squealing again. Even if I was effectively being forced to eat it. The first bite was heavenly, just as much as when chat polled me into eating. Though I was also perilously aware of the amount of food that’d soon be piling up in my gut.

“I’m sure you’ve mostly had a ton of people talking about your body and how they want to make it bigger right?” she said confidently. I paused through a particularly large bite of ice cream cake and gave her a brief nod. “To put it simply that’s because that’s all you’re offering them right now” she explained with a casual shrug. “I doubt you communicate or put on much of a show, so all you really give them to enjoy is the sight of your body blimping up” she elaborated with her eyes situated insultingly on my bloated middle. “That’s the main reason people use the site, but the truth is, most people would agree that after a while, if it’s just watching a girl get bigger, it gets pretty boring. Any girl can be forced to eat till she’s round, there’s plenty of bottom tier girls who do just that. But they aren’t popular, by and large they aren’t happy either”. I continued to eat as this was explained it to me. It was a little hard to focus with the flavor explosion going on in my mouth, but I got the gist of what she was saying. Just because they were perverts didn't mean they didn't have discerning tastes.

“You need a concept, one tends to develop naturally and change and evolve over time, but you need to decide on something that you can bring to the table that will entertain them” she explained with the utmost confidence. “Once you have that, find a chat member who you’ve seen around consistently, who likes the concept...and make them a moderator” she elaborated. I was expecting the conversation to be vaguer and more wishy washy. But it was quickly becoming clear I was getting a step by step guide. “Be careful who you pick, Moderators control poll timing, and can sometimes force their own poll results through...they can ban annoying chatters, and decide which poll results go up to be voted on” she further explained. I had gotten that from the forums for the most part. But the idea of putting that sort of trust in someone was sort of crazy. “You’ll need a few days to find someone you can trust to do that, at least if you’re not stupid...but when you do the rest sort of sorts itself” she explains. “For a girl like you with no ambition to climb the ranks of popularity you can just find a routine that doesn’t interfere with your life too much and live it” she explained with an air of finality. I gulped down another slice of ice cream cake as she finished. Its flavor hanging heavily on my lips. The button of my jeans had become offically painful.

“For what It’s worth though, once you get used to it the site isn't so bad” she begun to trail off. “Some poll results are pretty helpful...they can give you money or change the things you don’t like about yourself, even how you think” she elaborates. “When I first started, I was a mousy blonde with no self-confidence” she muttered with a sense of nostalgia. I almost couldn’t have imagined it, even after such a short conversation. “But now I’m a dark, bombshell of a feeder, who does whatever she wants” the administrator said starting to rise. As she did, she took the last slice of ice cream cake and pressed it to my lips. Bent over in a way that show cased her stellar cleavage. Out of sheer habit I took a bite. “That’s my concept, we’ll see if yours is anything interesting” she said giving me a condescending pat on the head before strutting out of the café. Leaving me in a state of shell shock.